


parts of a whole

by doxies



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxies/pseuds/doxies
Summary: Infinite is seven parts, fitted together to form a whole.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Repost off LJ!

  
_Infinite is seven._  
_It's a pie sliced, parts equal, yet different._  
_Infinite is seven parts, fitted together to form a whole._

_Infinite is Sunggyu, Woohyun, Myungsoo, Sungyeol, Sungjong, Hoya and Dongwoo._

_Infinite is linked arms and comfortable silences._  
_Infinite is family and home, it is bonds thicker than blood._

_Infinite is interdependence and harmony._  
_It is dominoes stacked in front of one another, and falling...falling..._

 

///

 

The first one to fall is Hoya.

They're in the middle of practice—the first one they've had since Dongwoo left—when Hoya walks out, tears down his face, and footsteps weighing more than the emotions that hang between them.

Hoya does not cry. Not often at least, and so very seldom in front of them.  He is too proud for that, too strong and relentless for that, too persistent and resistant to failure for him to break into tears at the slightest of things.

Hoya does not fall.

Yet, it makes perfect sense now. It makes complete sense that he, Howon, Hoya, be the first to fall, because Hoya and Dongwoo are one, because they’re a single unit that exists together.  
Because, without Dongwoo, it's just Hoya, just half of an entity that’s sheared in two. Because without him, it’s just Hoya and loneliness, and Hoya missing him every single moment he can and Hoya holding on to remnants of him because there's nothing else left for him to hold on to.

_(And his hold is slipping, slipping into memories, faded into time and coloured by the hands of cruel and unforgiving fate)_

Everything comes in fleeting waves of hollowness without _him_ , and when he sees the vacant space beside their shared bed— The space wherein used to lie promises of love and whispers of _forever_ — the emptiness comes back to him again and again.  
And the tears flow as he remembers, dripping into Dongwoo’s pillow like he used to with him to many nights ago.

Only, there isn’t Dongwoo to dry his tears. He doesn't tell him it's alright, tell him not to worry, doesn't pull him in his arms and whisper in his ears how much he means to him. Dongwoo's not there to lift him up when he trips up, and right now, hoya feels like he can no longer walk.

Only, there is no hand outstretched the way it always is (always has been). There is no smile to greet him, just like there is no sun to greet him as he wakes.

And he's drowning in the darkness without the sun, his sun, and the three words he should have, but hadn't yet said to him.

_I love you_.

 

///

 

 

Woohyun is second, succumbing to gravity as he plummets without end.

Perhaps they'd seen it coming, coming for a long while even before Hoya. After all, the human body cannot sustain itself on air and salty tears alone _(And Woohyun has been doing just that ever since Dongwoo left.)_

Woohyun’s always been conscious about his weight, each calorie counted with precision before he swallows. So when Dongwoo leaves, Dongwoo who’s always wheedled and coaxed and persuaded, and Dongwoo who no one can deny, Woohyun stops eating altogether.

He doesn’t cook either.

_(Sunggyu buys Chinese takeout more often than healthy, and Myungsoo mixes it with a side of instant, store-bought Kimchi Jjigae.)_

Each meal is colourless and silent and bland. Each meal is predictable, in a way that infinite’s never been. Each meal is Woohyun with his chopsticks and rice, quivering fingers as he swallows a few grains, and a few more maybe, before he leaves the table with red-rimmed eyes and a persistent lack of appetite.

Everyone knows how his plate is never empty and his stomach never full. They can see him shrinking, and he’s already thinner than Sungjong, who weighs too little as it is.

They see the numbers drop.

_58, 56, 54, 50._

The clothes hang off his skin, and his skin, off his bones. There's hollows in his cheeks and ribs, his limbs thin and almost fragile-looking.

Yet, still he doesn’t eat—not when there isn’t Dongwoo there to nag and remind him to.

When they finally coerce him to though, the thoughts of _dongwodongwoodongwoo_ fill his insides, and there's a nauseating sensation he feels at the bottom of his stomach, churning, churning. It feels like anger and regret and thoughts of _whywhywhy_ all rolled into one—and it tastes bitter and disgusting in his throat.

He ends up heaving everything into the toilet five minutes later.

They're worried, because Woohyun doesn't get better. Because without Dongwoo, Woohyun is lost to them and the world, hiding behind smiles too large, eyes too bright, and the mask that he fashions for himself.

Woohyun is lost.

 

///

 

Sunggyu is the third to fall, and he falls in a way more literally than intended.

The stress of everything is piling up, and the weight of seven divided by six is so much more than they're used to, so Sunggyu bears the billions of broken shards and fragments of _dongwoo's_ on his shoulders too.

It's the same routine they've had since forever: Sunggyu waking them in the mornings, breakfast, schedules, lunch, more schedules. Its almost as if nothing has changed...yet everything has, and nothing is ever the same anymore without _him._ _(how can it, when seven becomes six? When the gap between them while they move is glaring? When the silence that stretches on isn't filled?)_

But Sunggyu tries anyway, even when he's tired, too too tired.

He's holding them up, even if it’s just barely, persuading Hoya to get out of his room and quit brooding because _it won’t bring Dongwoo back_ , telling Woohyun to eat because _you can't dance without food or energy and Dongwoo wouldn't want that would he_.

He’s harsh, snarky—typical Sunggyu.

But as typical as he is, he forgets about himself in the process of doing everything at once, losing himself to the fatigue in his bones, and all those bottled feelings he doesn't quite word—and he simply cannot hold up any longer.

Sunggyu collapses in the middle of the street while getting groceries. He's taken to the hospital and given an IV before he is discharged.

The doctors advise him to rest, the _or else_ hanging thick in the air as he warns them.

Two hours later, he's barking at them to move faster, _Sungyeol your hands are out of sync, Hoya get your head straight and focus, Sungjong, no you do not need to lift your left foot, it's right, right not left, Myungsoo, your weight is placed wrongly and you’re going to…I WARNED YOU, and Woohyun, pitch, damn it, Dongwoo_ —

He stops, and freezes, blinking slightly, before he jolts back to earth and continues as if nothing's wrong.

_Except everything is._

 

///

 

Myungsoo is the fourth brick that crumbles.

It begins with a hairline fracture, unnoticeable to the naked eye, but ever present nonetheless.

 

It comes in comfortable silences, with his mind between the clouds and eyes blank and empty the way it’s been since anyone can remember.

 

He copes better than everyone else in his own silent manner, counselling and comforting the others when they have no one to turn to. He becomes a pillar of support, reassuring Sunggyu that _it’s alright_ , hugging Woohyun as he cries at night, looping his arms around Hoya’s waist, helping Sungyeol and the maknae with their new lines and steps—

_(It’s almost as if nothing has changed, and it feels like if he believes it enough, nothing will.)_

Except everything has.

Because Dongwoo was, and is stability; because without Dongwoo, everything pans in and out of focus. Without him, the ground beneath him is unsteady and uncertain; the floors are slick with insecurity, the steps uneven, and his body more unsynchronized than he's used to. His limbs feel heavy, legs and arms too long, head too heavy as he moves, and the moisture in his eyes blurs the colours in front of him until he can no longer see clearly.

So he slips, losing his footing on the stairway of their apartment, and ends up careening downwards three _(four? five? he can’t remember)_ flights.

He ends up with a twisted ankle and a fractured wrist that'll heal eventually, and the doctor is saying he's really, really lucky.

Except Myungsoo doesn't think 'lucky'. _(Because he really isn't. He loses every lottery he's bought, doesn't bring an umbrella only on rainy days, and spoils a shoe two days before he actually needs it.)_

He's left with the silence of the house when the others leave, and that tethers him from wandering and zoning off into space, tethers him to earth and the pain and tears that come with it.

In that silence, He doesn't think 'lucky' at all.

_He thinks 'Dongwoo' instead._

 

///

 

They fall together, five and six, Lee Sungyeol and Lee Sungjong. And they fall right between the cracks.

With Dongwoo gone, there's one more pair of shoes to fill, and they each fill one, half with tears and half with sweat.

Hoya is main rapper, and Sungyeol is lead. They become H together, in Dongwoo’s place, and Sungyeol feels like a fish out of water that's gasping, gasping for air.

He isn't a natural at this, and the syllables feel forced between his lips as he moves them. He isn't _good_ at this _(He’s not good at anything)_ , the way Dongwoo is _(was)._

He cannot replace Dongwoo. He isn't him, and he cannot fill in those shoes too small, and the clothes too brightly coloured. He cannot shrink a whole ten centimetres in height, and he cannot laugh with eyes crinkling, lips thick and stretched over teeth--he isn't, just isn't Dongwoo. So, he doesn't even bother pretending.

Sungjong is only slightly better off.

He shares a spot with Woohyun as lead dancers, and he tries to keep up without being told. _(Woohyun is so brittle; Sungjong doesn't dare put any more weight on his shoulders. And though there’s Sunggyu, he doesn't want another repeat of the previous incident)_

But Sungjong is waves and curvy lines and _softsoftsoft_ all over. He is girl group dances, magic fingers and swaying hips. He is fast moves and energy, explosive and sensual.

He isn't liquid limbs and thumbs and toes. He isn't biceps and muscles and abs. He isn't sleeveless shirts and lines and precision.

He isn't Dongwoo.

They aren’t Dongwoo.

They can't fill the spot he leaves behind, because Lee Sungyeol and Lee Sungjong just aren’t— they’re just not him.

Lee Sungyeol and Lee Sungjong are feet two sizes too big and too small. They’re not made to fit into the hole that is Dongwoo, simply because Dongwoo has shoes no one can fit into, because infinite is incomplete without him.

Because when Dongwoo is gone, they don’t, they can’t stand.

Because when Dongwoo is dead and gone and never coming back, they’re not infinite.

 

//

 

_Infinite is seven, dwindled down to six._  
_It is in-completion, it is grief, it is the absent glue that no longer ties them together._  
_Infinite is Sunggyu, Woohyun, Myungsoo, Sungyeol, Sungjong, Hoya and –_  



End file.
